


End All

by northpeach, wolfsrainrules



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: ANGST you guys, Again-PLEASE be careful with this., Alternate Universe - Time Travel, And please- think about that when applied to being from a Jewish family in WW2, Angst with a Happy Ending, Body Horror, Drabbles so short chapters, Gen, Genocide, Gore, He lived during WWI and II, His family was Jewish- this is gonna be a dark time, Holocaust, Human Experimentation, I DON'T WANT TO TRIGGER ANYONE, I am absolutely terrified to work with this subject matter, I don’t want to offend anyone, I had to research ALL of this stuff, I have no personal knowledge, IT’S THE END OF THE WORLD AND I’M NOT FINE, Immortality, I’m going dark places before we find ‘happy’, I’ve never written anything this dark?, Jewish Character, Like the suicidal thoughts and attempts when in the denial stage, Mass Murder, Mental Disorders, Mental Health Issues, Please Be careful, Psychological Horror, Racism and Prejudice of the times, Skull is immortal, So much angst, Starvation, This is gonna be Dark you guys, Time Travel, Torture, You only know you’re immortal when nothing kills you, and I’ll try to give it the respect it deserves, and that comes with some mental issues, but i will, but we are going to WORK for that, gas chambers, notice that S, so I’m letting you know, so much research, talk of the Camps and living in them, talk of: HOLOCAUST, the aftermath of SURVIVING the Holocaust, the torture involved in the Holocaust
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-11-12 07:30:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11157153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/northpeach/pseuds/northpeach, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfsrainrules/pseuds/wolfsrainrules
Summary: Skull had suffered his way through both World Wars, immortal and unending, all the way up to meeting Tsuna and his family. Perhaps it was then that he began to heal. And then, of course, the world ended, and it all spiraled out of control.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was wolfsrainrules' idea and was inspired by esama, who is in both of our opinions, an absolutely amazing and brilliant author.  
> Immortal Skull was northpeach's idea and frankly, with the two of us working together, it snowballed into this.  
> As the tags have mentioned (if you've read through them) this is likely the darkest fiction either of us has ever written. While northpeach's maternal family is both German and Jewish, neither of us are intimately familiar with Jewish culture. We will be doing research (so much research), but if you are Jewish or of Jewish descent and see an error, please let us know.  
> Thank you, we hope you enjoy our work!
> 
> Also-  
> Come join us on tumblr!  
> wolfsrainrules.tumblr.com  
> north-peach.tumblr.com

He was well over ninety years old, despite his young appearance.

He’d thought for sure nothing could surprise him anymore. He’d seen the worst of humanity- had lived it- had even seen some of the best of humanity.

Flames though...that had been a shock.

Explained some things of course, he had seen some...very indescribable incidents over his life, in the Wars. Knowing what the multicolored Flames were, and what they could do was nice. He’d figured his own out of course, but it was nice to have official channels to ask questions through

He had found his home with Flame users, found his Sky in Xanxus of the Varia. Found a family that accepted him, knew of his age and what he had seen, and still welcomed him amongst their number in Varia, and the Tenth Generation of Vongola.

So came the second shock in his long life- and perhaps the most scarring.

The End of All Things.

When the world goes to shit, when technology fails, and food becomes scarce, when there is no safe...the worst of humanity is brought to life. Skull had long ago realized that the future would not be a bright civilized place.

Not anymore. Instead he had chosen to keep his own alive. To keep his Sky and fellow Elements, to keep the Arcobaleno breathing, safe as they could be, fed. He’d chosen to keep the Little Lion and his Guardians alive.

Chosen to use his many, many years of experience in the Wars, and surviving those wars, to help his family with facing the obstacles of a post-apocalyptic world.


	2. Chapter 2

Perhaps Skull would have stayed that way- helping to keep his family alive in hostile situations, struggling with his panic attacks and leftover bad habits from his many years on earth and the Wars he had participated in, but Tsunayoshi and Yuni had teamed up to perform an impossible task.  
  
Again.  
  
They had come to him, as the oldest, most experienced of the lot. Adding in his Cloud Flames, and their propagation property allowing their desperate gamble the best chance of succeeding…  
  
Skull had said yes. Of course he had.  
  
A chance to change the future? To give his family a better life than this?  
  
A life where they were not always hungry, where they had not lost their homes, their livelihoods, where they could _live_ again instead of surviving?  
  
It hadn’t even been a thought.  
  
He had survived World War I and II, he had been an experiment in the darkest of  the Nazi camps after surviving where he shouldn’t have, he had been hunted, he had _survived_ .  
  
Despite this, he had not been prepared for the difficulty of arriving back in the past. Had not been ready for the bonds he had forged in Flame and shared suffering to be **_gone_ ** .  
  
Unprepared for the way his mind would react to the trauma of having his bonds ripped away into nothingness. He had known that the bonds had helped to settle him, to calm his mind, but until they were gone he had not realized how _much_ they helped him.  
  
There was a moment where Skull didn't register the lack of bonds, too busy staring at the clearing he had landed inside, in the past. He had not seen this clearing since the times long before the End of Days. It wasn’t that where he landed wasn’t easily recognizable, but that he was surrounded by greenery. Trees, the likes of which he hadn’t seen still standing in years. A thick cover of grass with wildflowers dotting here and there, in bright, vivid colors. The sky was so blue, the sun was shining and he could hear the birds singing.  
  
It was like every dream he had ever dreamed of the days before the End, when the Earth was beautiful and alive. If it weren’t for the way he could easily breath, how there was no pain or pull of one of the nastier scars he received after the End, he would have thought this was simply another dream.  
  
It was too real, he was too real and he could feel.  
  
And for one moment. One perfect moment, everything was fine and it was okay again.  
  
Then the loss of bonds and people crashed into his mind, _time travel_ , the dead weren’t dead, but they weren’t _his family_ anymore and every muscle in his body locked up and his jaw clenched automatically without thought, so not a sound would escape him.  
  
He recognized the tightness in his chest, the closing of his throat, the way his legs shook beneath him, and the way the edges of his vision were being overtaken by spots. He hunched over, a hand on his chest as he tried to breathe through the panic attack.  
  
He just needed a moment. Just a minute and everything would be fine again, just a second to calm down and Skull would be human again and everything would be- everything is- _just fine_ -  
  
A hand grasps his shoulder with enough strength to hold him in place.  
  
Skull doesn't think- can’t think. Everything is automatic- _someone snuck up on him- where was his Family? Why couldn’t he_ **_feel them_ ** _\- he was going to die if he didn't_ **_kill them first-_ ** _they were going to take him away again, Skull couldn’t be taken away, he had too much to protect, he needed to_ **fight back--**  
  
Skull lashes out sharp, and dangerous. His hand grabs the wrist at his shoulder and he twists throwing the person behind him over his shoulder. In the next moment he has turned to lash out at the next closest presence, registering absently that Rain Flames have just been used to slow his reactions by an instant. His Flames flare, vicious and furious as the male he had been aiming to kill prevents his death by a fraction of an second--


	3. Chapter 3

The first sign that something wasn’t quite right in their neck of the woods, is the way the Cloud’s Flames flare for an instant before spiraling inwards, folding and dimming until he is not even the barest of whispers against the Arcobaleno’s Flame Sense, even though he is perfectly visible to their eyes.  
  
It pulls all of their attention away from their current activities, no matter their location, to figure out what had caused the reaction if nothing else. Reborn, Colonello and Lal are the first out of the house, responding the quickest, while Viper materialized out of thin air a good distance away from the Cloud. Mists.  
  
It takes barely a scan of their immediate area, when they see Skull standing eerily still, back to the surrounding trees, and facing the field with a look like he has never seen the world outside. They’ve barely know him, but so far his position is the weakest of them. So they are curious, but not worried.  
  
But then the Cloud’s breath stutters, stalls and his eyes glaze over, vacantly staring at the blue sky. He begins to fold over his arms that have wrapped around his waist, and he is struggling to breathe, while subtle tremors shudder through his body.  
  
Colonello recognized the signs instantly, having been part of the army long enough to know the indications of one in an instant. Lal is right behind him in recognizing the signs as they wonder  
  
A panic attack? What triggered it?  
  
Lal reaches for Skull first, expecting the man to recognize her Flame, her presence, as she flares her Flame in warning of her approach. Except... Skull _doesn't._ His reaction is lightning quick, barely a second passes when her fingers make contact before he flips the woman over his shoulder, throwing her body out an _away_ , into the trees with Propagated strength. Colonello doesn't think after that, only reacting to the sight of Lal flying, and he lunges forward to intervene.  
  
Skull intercepts him and tries to crush his windpipe when he gets close, and the only thing to save him, is that Colonello is a Rain and he uses his Flames to slow the man’s hands by the barest of instances. That second more of room allows him to jerk himself to the side, enough that Skull’s fingernails just barely brush his skin. Colonello’s combat skills aren’t anything to sneeze at, but Lal’s are better than his, and considering the ease in which Skull overpowered her, he thinks it’s a wise idea to put out as much Rain Flames as he can.    
  
For a second, it works and Skull staggers under the Tranquility, his movements slowing down substantially. And then Cloud Flames are flaring to heights none of the Arcobaleno had expected from Skull, even as the World’s Strongest Cloud, and the Flames are infuriated and dagger-sharp.  
  
The Rain Flames that had slowed him by the smallest amount shatter into nothing under the flare of Skull’s Flames, and Viper intervenes, sliding an illusion of Colonello being much closer while the real one fades from view. When Skull goes after the Construct, everyone pauses a moment when he freezes, his fingers digging into the illusion’s throat, and an instant later, Skull wrenches himself away, jumping back from them, lacking any manner of grace, to slam his back against a tree. The speed in which he hurtles himself from the middle of the clearing to the outer edges is astonishing, especially consider the amount of force that he hit the tree with.  
  
The shallow and shuddering breaths sound harsh in the sudden silence that’s fallen over the area and the Cloud has his arms up, defensive mostly, shaking and flaring with fire.  
  
Colonello and Lal have both risen and are staring at Skull, taking in the glazed, but darting eyes. They’re assessing the defensive but aggressive stance he had fallen into, and swiftly come to the same conclusion: Flashbacks.  
  
There’s a swirl of Mist Flames by Reborn’s side and Viper appears, their focus on Skull just as the hitman’s is. Reborn has lifted a gun, hesitant even as Skull shifts threateningly as he moves back, moving further into the trees around them, and both Rains turn to him sharp and commanding but it’s Colonello who speaks, rather commands, “No! Reborn don't shoot him! You’ll make it worse!”  
  
Thankfully, that’s all the incentive the hitman needs, honestly, and he quickly holsters his gun, exchanging a warning look with Viper that has the Mist standing down as well. When he turns to level a look at both Rains, this one demanding information, it’s Lal that answers him as Colonello changes his posture and tone and attempts to approach Skull, speaking quietly and firmly, with his hands open and in the line of the Cloud’s sight, his every movement telegraphed.  
  
“Flashback, traumatic shit happens to you, and when you bottle it up and ignore it, things like _this_ happen. People use fancy words, *Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, or what the old timers just call shell-shock. Either way, he’s neither aware of his location nor us at the moment.”  
  
Behind them, the door to the house opens and slams shut as Fon comes running out, the martial artist coming to a quick stop as gray eyes dart around, assessing the situation. He’s bare footed and the top two buttons of his wushu uniform are undone, but his gaze is alert. It’s when he sees Skull that he resumes his movement, leaping from the porch to the lawn and quickly making his way to Reborn’s other side.  
  
Verde and Luce are the next ones to emerge from house, but Reborn, Viper, and Fon’s attention is focused on the Rains and Skull, in case their intervention is required.  
  
When Luce stops an arm’s length from the Sun and the Mist, Reborn gives her a short look, dividing his attention between his Sky to the Cloud. The woman only looks a Skull for a couple seconds before realization washes over her face.  
  
“Are you aware of what set Skull off?” Luce quietly asks, worry furrowing her brow and concern twisting her lips.  
  
The Sun only offers a curt, grim shake in the negative, and Viper’s visible facial expression is only a vaguely upset twist of their mouth. Everyone’s attention is focused on the distressed Cloud and the Rain that is attempting to calm him down. But everyone’s thoughts are on the complete switch Skull’s personality has just made, from the arrogant and easily persuaded almost- _child_ that had come to them six months prior. There was nothing of him in this man.  
  
The wind chooses that moment to pick up and carry the words that Colonello is repeating, drifting to their ears.  
  
“Your name is Skull. You are in north Italia. You are a stuntman. You are at the Arcobaleno Mansion. You are not in danger. It is May 10, 1969. You are safe.”  
  
By Colonello’s fourth repetition, Skull twitches from his place, back still pressed firmly against a tree, his hands wreathed in Flame and eyes wildly shifting from point to point. The Rain doesn’t pause, but he speaks slower, his voice smooth and firm. It’s when Skull allows a small noise to escape his mouth and his legs give out, his body sliding down the rough bark that everyone knows that the man is finally aware of his surroundings."  
  
The tension eases out of everyone present, save for Colonello who barely moves a muscle. Skull’s hands are visibly shaking and he’s talking, jumbled words in a mesh of German and- is that _Arabic? Hebrew?_ \- just under his breath.  
  
As Reborn walks closer, keeping in step just behind Lal, he catches a few _Hail Marys_ in lightly accented Italian and that alone is _interesting_ because when anyone mentions any kind of religion, Skull gets this disdainful look in his eyes and his body language all but shuts down. Verde is of the opinion the only interesting things about the man is his complete disregard and apathy towards religion and his Flames.  
  
Skull breaking down into a complete panic attack and coming very close to both severely injuring and _killing_ two experienced soldiers is worrying. Despite the fact that Skull is a _civilian_ , he is also a _Cloud_ and contrary to his personality, has all the talents of a particularly strong one.  
  
This is a serious matter, especially considering there is nothing that _any_ of them have noticed, no signs of lingering trauma that could trigger this. For all that Skull _talks_ he doesn’t say _anything_ . The only three things Reborn actually knows about him is that he’s a civilian, a stuntman and that he hates religions.  
  
So this... _this_ is concerning.  
  
And when Reborn trails his gaze over everyone present, he can see that same realization in them. There’s not enough information, no hints or clues in anything Skull has said or done previously. Beyond the fact that his default language was assumed to be Russian, the sudden flood of German and either Arabic or Hebrew does bring a new perspective into Skull’s early years.  
  
His features are obscured by the suit he wore, the makeup, and he wears his helmet 80% of the time, so it was a challenge to pick out any distinguishing facial features to identify his ancestry.  
  
Now, though, _now_ as Reborn lingers on the curves and edges of Skull’s face, he can see features he’s only seen in those of Middle Eastern descent. Not that there isn’t any Russian in there, because there _is._ But, if Skull wasn’t born with purple eyes, with purple hair, Reborn can seen them being dark. With pale skin and barely exotic features, the hitman was willing to bet one of Skull’s parents or grandparents was from the Middle East.  
  
The other was probably Russian, as that was the language Skull seemed to stick with most.  
  
But...German and...perhaps Hebrew? That was, unfortunately, a very common combination from the survivors of World War II. Considering that Skull was barely into his 20s, if that, it was possible his other parent…  
  
Well, _merde._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *So a reviewer informed me that this terminology wasn't used until the 1980s, but for the moment I'm going to leave this in here.


	4. Chapter 4

Skull is panicking.  
  
He had almost  _ killed _ Colonello, and would have continued forward to kill Lal, had the others not poured out of the mansion house. If Viper hadn’t given him an illusion to attack while in the middle of the flashback he would have-   
  
He had slipped into a flashback, remembering a time in the distant future of the End, where he had been alone and cornered. It was Lal’s bad luck that the ones to corner him (a group of three) had all been Rains, and so in trying to flare her Flames at him, had only pulled him deeper into the memory.  
  
The moment she had approached him from behind- already in the grips of a panic attack, Skull had been helpless to stop himself as he was sucked under.  
  
And  _ Hail Mary _ , but having  _ another _ Rain come near him, having them use their Flames to slow his movements...it was pure luck that the others had come out then, as the non-Rain Flames had caused just enough confusion-just enough of a difference to what had already happened- to keep him from following through with his initial desire to kill the two Rains.  
  
That wasn't even  _ thinking _ about the memories of  _ burning, choking, screams and crying, slowing downdown _ **_down_ ** _ \--he couldn’t  _ breathe-no _ no _ **no** .  
  
Skull took a shaking breath, carefully focusing on the steady voice in front of him, in the here and now, and purposely falling into the breathing exercises that Xanxus and Fon had taught him in order to help even before the End Times.  
  
He wasn't slowing down, he was breathing fine, he was  _ outside _ and every breath brought the scent of wood, dirt and wind, of wildflowers and nature unsullied by blood to his lungs. Nothing was burning, there were no fires, no chemicals, no ash to choke on, no  _ screams _ , no one was dying. No one was speaking sharp furious German, no one was barking commands, allowing him to come back in his own time.  
  
He knew, in the back of his head, he had slipped into the mesh of Hebrew and German of his childhood, that an occasional Hail Mary slipped out in Italian- a habit, an expletive, he had picked up from the many, many native Italian members of his family, but Skull was having problems stopping himself from using the languages as he struggled to bring himself back from the mire of memories.  
  
He carefully narrows his focus down to the smells and sounds around him, using the clean scents and the familiar voices and breathing patterns to anchor himself in the present.  
  
“Please don't come at me from behind during a panic attack.” he has to repeat the demand after using the Hebrew-German mesh the first time, concentrating hard to make sure the words are Italian.  
  
Colonello answers him with the same calm and steady voice that had pulled him from Flashbacks in the future-though this Colonello was unaware of that- “Alright, we can do that. We won’t touch you from the back during a panic attack. Anything else?”  
  
Skull is still, quiet as he slowly, gradually, unfolds from his hunched position. His hands remain up and ready to protect himself or lash out, but he begins to straighten, leaning back into the tree breathing slow and steady in the way he had been taught.  
  
“If you have to approach me during one, come at me from the front, slowly and make sure to speak calmly. Don't raise your voice or I am likely to attack first and think later. Don’t loom over me either if you happen to be higher than I am at the time. Keep your hands open and in view. I can’t promise you still won’t set me off anyway, but that’s your best bet all the same.” He paused for an instant, as the thought comes to him that it will take  _ time _ for the Bonds to form with these younger versions of his family, the Bonds that would keep Skull from lashing out at the others even in the midst of a Flashback, recognizing them as  **_his_ ** even in the grips of a memory. So he adds, stern and serious “And if we are not in a hostile situation  _ don’t _ flare your Flames, for the love of  _ fucking sunshine _ .”  
  
“...for the love of  _ sunshine _ ?” Fon is the one ask the question, after a moment of ringing silence, and Skull almost snorts. At this time, the only curses Skull had ever heard from the martial artist have been in his native language. It’s a bit amusing to him that Fon avoided saying the word ‘fucking’. The amount of time they had spent around Xanxus and the Varia in the future- at first because he was Skull’s Sky, and then because they had all banded together during the End Times- had rubbed off. By the time Skull had been sent back to now, they had  _ all _ had horrible (and varied) language.  
  
Later on, after the End of All Things had happened, and the sky was covered in the dark ash, when sunlight was scarce and filtered red and grey by the smoke and ash-rain, when food and water were so little as to be almost impossible to find, those of his family had picked up Skull’s habits of cursing with and by things that were needed for life, or missed from the days Before.  
  
Things like water, or food, fresh air or  _ sunshine _ . Things like gas masks, and shoes, things like  _ family _ .  
  
Things that Skull had learned to cherish and swear by thanks to long days in wars, and then dark nights in Gas Chambers- where a gas mask was your only hope. Things that he wished for when he had spent  _ weeks _ and  _ months _ down in the Experiment Rooms.   
  
Things that replaced the gods Skull no longer believed in, things that were  _ real and loved _ that held his sanity together, that grounded him, things like family. Necessities and basic supplies that he had learned in the Camps to do without- like excess of food or drinkable water, like his own shoes, or clothes that didn't belong to his prison uniform.  
  
These were the things that Skull swore by, the things that the others had learned to swear by when they became in short supply.  
  
It was honestly a bit weird to hear Fon not swearing by tea where Skull had used sunshine. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Four Years After End All -** **_territory once known as Italy_ **

 

“You useless lump of misshapen metal, by all the tea leaves of China…” Fon hissed from his place crouched in front of the hidden chest. 

 

Skull’s lips twitched even as he continued scanning their surroundings “Fon-”

 

The Storm cut him off without pause “I  _ know _ Skull, but the forsaken piece of-ah!” Skull darted a glance over his shoulder, and felt his lips pull towards the hint of a grin. Fon has gotten the chest of supplies open.

 

They couldn’t risk any Flame use, any hint of particularly strong Flames drawing in any survivors. After the End, everyone that  _ survived _ , that had the drive to keep going tended to be Flame Active in the aftermath. As such, they could sense the use particularly strong Flames in most cases, which had led to true and tried methods of survival being the best bets.

 

Skull, Xanxus, Reborn, and Hayato had been the best at lockpicking and had taught the others to better any of their current skills, now put to use so often in this apocalyptic life. They had lost so much in the beginning stages of The End that every scrap was precious, every hint of usefulness wringed out of even the most unconventional of items. 

 

He brought his eyes back around to their surroundings. It was dangerous to be above ground nowadays. The only time anyone came ‘upstairs’ from the underground it was for supply hunting, and those were so scarce that anyone spotted with them was instantly fair game. Solo hunting was so dangerous, even Reborn went out with a partner at this point.

 

“ _ Fon _ .” 

 

Skull’s voice was sharp and the martial artist reacted quickly, gathering the threadbare blanket, the few cans of food- an exceedingly rare sight, and probably only present due to the fact the chest had been hidden so well- and the few rolls of bandages.  He stood,  swinging the backpack-thin but sturdy enough- over his shoulder. 

 

“Seems we found the owners of that chest.” Skull’s voice was bland as he watched the furious group of three rushing their way.

 

Skull stood from his crouched position, both of them tracking the band of survivors, and Skull shifted just the slightest. “Deal with them or…?”

 

On one hand- they would have to fight. On the other- they had taken their supplies, and Skull knew they would follow them. Fon scanned over the ragged collection and then shifted, his Flames stirring lightly across the bond Skull shared with him.

 

No words were exchanged, but they both darted forward at the same moment, their strikes precise and lightening quick. The would-be-attackers dropped before they even realized they had been spotted by the once Arcobaleno.

 

Skull easily shifted to put himself at Fon’s back, following the Storm as he made his way through wastelands that had once been a forest. He would let Fon decide which direction they would go next- towards the others, or further out to look for more.

 

It was always a choice between supplies vs the distance traveled from the family.

 

Skull sighed heavily, raising his eyes and imagining a blue sky in place of ash and air the color of blood.

 

_ I’m not sure how much more of this I can take. _


	6. Chapter 6

Skull is slow to push himself back up to his feet, and slower still to lower his hands from their defensive position.   
  
_Everything is fine, everything is okay, nothing is wrong, it’s over, it’s hasn’t begun, nothingis_ ** _right shutupshutup-  
  
_** Skull takes a deep breath and shoves the images and the voices into the back of his head, where he cannot hear them. He exhales and focuses on the world around him.  
  
“It’s a quirk,” he responds to Fon and his questioning of Skull’s curse choice.  
  
He closes his eyes and allows his breathing to deepen for a moment before he moves forward, his steps heavy and purposeful. The Arcobaleno are relieved when they realize his eyes are focused, no longer glazed and he is taking in everything around him, despite the old wounds in his eyes.  
  
He pauses in front of the Rains, his eyes darting between the two of them and then softly speaking, “I am sorry I attacked you in the midst of the flashback.”  
  
Lal shrugged, “It’s not your fault. I’ve seen plenty of flashbacks- I know you’re not aware of what happens around you in the present. Everyone is a threat,” she paused before adding, “If I had realized it was a  _Flashback_  and not a panic attack like I thought it was, I wouldn’t have approached you so carelessly.”  
  
It’s not quite an apology, but Skull relaxes a little at the plain acceptance and acknowledgement from the woman. Colonnello agrees with her a second later, chiming in with,

“You wouldn't have attacked if you had known it was me. It’s alright.”  
  
Skull relaxes a little more. He knows that it isn’t his fault, but it took him a long time, and lots of help, to get to that point in his recovery.  
  
He idly wonders if going back into the past has also set back what healing he’s managed over the years. He has so much more baggage to deal with this time around, even with the total lack of support from those closest to him.  
  
It’s nice to see the others agreeing with him though. To see understanding in their eyes this early in their relationship, even beside the confusion of not knowing  _why_  Skull has flashbacks, vivid and violent ones at that.  
  
He appreciates that none of the Arcobaleno mention the elephant in the room, taking their cues from his own avoidance of the subject. Then again, while the others aren’t as broken as he is, they have their own cracks and chips.  
  
Skull takes a breath ( _screaming, please, pleaseletme_ ** _us_** _out_ ), and then stills. “Luce.”  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Your muffins are burning.”  
  
_(His skin bubbling, blistering, peelingoffhisbones. HeCan’tGetOutGetOut_ ** _gEtOuT_** _, Children screaming until they can’t, Skull screaming and trying to offer words to the children between and_ ** _everythingJustKeepsDyingExCePtHiM)  
  
_** Luce’s eyes widened (at the information, at the look on his face? He doesn’t know, he just feels so  _numb-_ ) and then she whirled away from the group rushing up the stairs and leaving only a shocked “ _Oh!_ ” in her wake.  
  
Skull closes his eyes, restarting his breathing exercises as he tries to focus on the Now and not  _Then_.  
  
_He doesn’t do well with the smell of burning things-  
  
_ Is what he means to say, but the words don’t quite manage to leave his mouth.  
  
Once the last controlled exhale had passed his lips he scanned the faces of the Arcobaleno, who are all staring at him like it is the first time they have seen him. Skull has to agree, in this past with the younger, and comparatively inexperienced versions of his family, it truly is their first glimpse at Skull as he  _is_  and not as he  _acted_.  
  
He doesn't acknowledge the new awareness in their eyes, the way they all shift around him, allowing him clear exits from the gathering, how they all step and move carefully and swiftly so they are all in his line of sight.  
  
How, when Luce calls that she managed to save the muffins so come on in so we can eat them, the Arcobaleno enter the mansion first and then clear the door, allowing Skull to watch them, and then immediately see into the room without putting anyone at his back.  
  
He is silently thankful that, when he comes into the kitchen, the Arcobaleno are already settled. Thankful they have left him what is usually  _Reborn’s_  seat with its back to the wall and all entrance ways and people in sight.  
  
He doesn't think about how  _long_  it took the Arcobaleno of his time to adjust this way, how hard it was to break their own habits concerning him. Thirty years of solid facts rendered lies and misdirections, hiding the real horror story lurking in Skull’s past threw everything into question.  
  
Now, these are strangers with all their own secrets that are learning to fit together, as a group, as allies and trusted comrades.  
  
Now, there will be no need for Skull to keep _smiling, smiling even as he screams-_


	7. Chapter 7

Skull remembers the hassle of an adjustment period when the Arcobaleno of his time first discovered his age and experiences.    
  
He remembers their confusion at the reveal, that it had been long before the End Times, and that he had not planned to reveal his past at _all_.  
  
It had started with a gala, a gala full of civilians and Flame actives alike, that Skull attended only because Tsuna had asked him, and aside from the fact the little lion had broken his curse, Skull rather liked the Котёнок.  
  
He had been content to ghost around the edges the gala, ignored and overlooked. It hadn’t worked out that way of course, the moment Skull came into view of the man Tsuna had been talking to. He was the leader of a rather unknown family who had been well established in their part of the underworld all the same, and well known for fairness and firmness.  
  
Tsuna had approved of the man, and wanted to extend the hand of the Vongola to him, to show Vongola approved of his methods.  
  
So for the man to stop mid conversation, to turn away from the Don of Vongola, and lose that composure he had handled himself with, was quite the eye catching incident. That shortly after that he had rushed past the Sky, and straight for Skull calling “ _Papochka!”_ was only more so.  
  
Skull hadn’t paid any attention to the crowd after that anyway, his entire attention swinging straight onto the man headed his direction, eyes widening as he recognized a form he had not seen in years.  
  
_“Волчонок!”_ Skull had opened his arms without thought, welcoming the man easily, a wide smile on his face as quick Yiddish greetings were exchanged. __“I have missed you, Jakob. How have you been?”  
  
__“I have been well since you last saw me, if newly married.”  
  
_“You were_ ** _married?_** __Who was the lucky bride, and why was I not invited Волчонок?”  
  
__“Irene of course, and we could not find you.”  
  
Skull had turned sharply, following the man’s eyes to a bright little woman, staring wide eyed in their direction. “ _Солнышко!”_ Skull’s voice was bright with pleased shock at the sight of her, and at his call she rushed across the floor. He easily caught her rushing form, laughing as he swept her off the floor and spun her around.  
  
Skull had taken care of the children in his Camp since the moment he had been stuck inside its walls. As parents had died, as people were killed, Skull became one of the only _constant_ people in their lives, as undying as he was.  
  
When the Camps were finally liberated, and Skull was left with a collection of children who had suffered as no child should suffer, who had no family left to take them in, he had formed his own orphanage. None of them had been his biologically, but he had taken the lot of them, cared for them, and raised them all the same.  
  
Jakob and Irene were the children of two of his kids from the orphanage, grown now, and married to one another, as Skull had often joked they would be. They still referred to him as _Papochka,_ or ‘dad’ since calling him ‘grandpa’ could draw attention to his lack of aging.  
  
Considering what his kids had seen him suffer when that fact had been exposed, they made a point to have their kids refer to Skull as ‘dad’ instead, no matter that they had parents who Skull had raised. Skull didn’t argue. He would rather keep his age under wraps as well.  
  
_“Papochka!”_ Irene’s voice was excited __“I have not seen you in years! I missed you.”  
  
Skull had not smiled so brightly in a long while __“I missed you both.”  
  
They had spent a moment huddled in an embrace, silent and still as they basked in one another’s presence, foreheads pressed together, and eyes closed.  
  
They were completely oblivious to the stares and silence around them, before Jakob broke it __“Papochka, you must come and meet the little ones. They are your godchildren.”  
  
Skull remembered the _awe_ he had experienced when Jakob handed him his daughter, the little jewel not even three, but lively.  
  
It had been after the gala that the Arcobaleno had confronted him. After everyone had left that he had been surrounded, and answers demanded.  
  
Skull remembers the week long avoidance of the topic, the chaos as the Arcobaleno tried to force answers from him and _failed_ as the ‘lackey’ displayed a spine of steel they had been unaware existed. As he slid between their fingers like the wind, unable to be pinned down and demanded answers from.  
  
And he remembers the breaking point, when he had shared only that his past was full of suffering, full of pain, and that he didn't want to talk about it. Reborn had scoffed across the table, scornful and full of disbelief, as he asked “What have you lived through, Skull?” in response.  
  
Skull remembers jerking to his feet, his chair crashing to the floor, the entire table shifting at the force with which he stood and _snarling_ at the lot of them. He remembers the shock as Skull _finally_ lost his temper in a spectacular Cloud Rage the likes of which reinforced the idea that he was the _World’s Strongest Cloud_. And an _Inverted_ one at that.  
  
He _doesn’t_ remember his Rage in the clarity he wishes he did. He remembers flashes, remembers pieces and _intent_. Remembered how _tired_ of the Arcobaleno’s reactions to him he was. That he had wanted it to _stop_ , to give them a reason to leave him be.  
  
And he remembers, more than anything else, that when he came back to himself, he had been standing in front of the Arcobaleno completely shirtless, his scars, his _horrors_ , his __number on display.  
  
And he remembers their horrified silence, their dawning understanding.  
  
The struggle as they fought to break over thirty years of conditioned reactions to him, dealing with how they had the knowledge to understand Skull’s reactions now, what had once caused them to hit the Cloud now making horrifying sense with the context and ideas about why Skull was the way he was.  
  
To see the Arcobaleno now, easily adjusting to this new side of Skull, adjusting to his reactions and their knowledge that Skull had suffered enough to have problems with Flashbacks and panic attacks...is shocking.   
  
It is jarring in the difference between what once-had-been and what was now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Understand that North and I do not speak Russian, and these were the results of research and may be wrong.
> 
> Котёнок: Kitten
> 
> Papochka: dad (who is loving and close to their children)
> 
> Волчонок: Little Wolf
> 
> Солнышко: Little Sun


	8. Chapter 8

Skull was exasperated, and strangely flattered.   
  
The Arcobaleno were being Mother Hens.  
  
Yes, it deserved the internal capitalization because all of them were _involved_ and _coordinating_.  
  
His own Arcobaleno had done the same, once they had absorbed the information about his past, and to see it happening now was reassuring in regards to their bonds. He was still _theirs_ , just as much as they were his, even now. Even if they were not as close as he had once been with their future selves.  
  
Even when their information about his past proved to be incomplete, even when they had known him only six months to his many, many years. In a world so different to what he had known, so different to what he had been surviving, he knew himself well enough to _know_ he needed that reassurance. That even if they were not as close as they had been _yet_ , they had the potential to be just as close if not closer now.  
  
Knew well enough that he needed the grounding effect their pointed stares, the way they left food and drinks around him and glared until he ate at least some of it, had on him. Finding out said food was infused with their Flames to help him along and grinning slightly to himself, because they had done this back Before.  
  
Waking up from nightmares only to find the Arcobaleno taking turns waking him, or sitting with him. Subtle uses of their Flames in ways that wouldn't set him off into a flashback. Dealing with the _Incidents_ while they were learning what would set him off, and he got yanked under by the riptide of flashbacks and became _dangerous_ because he had no idea who was with him anymore and was aiming to kill or incapacitate.  
  
Talking him around from them, each Element learning the little tricks and tips that would help him come around quicker, which individual was best to pull him from different flashbacks. Which of them would only make the situation worse if they approached during a particular flashback.  
  
Learning his tells, that would give them the information about what sort of flashback he was in and how to best help him from there.  
  
Skull is absurdly grateful that the Arcobaleno are the _best_ at what they do. That they have some of the best observational skills he has ever seen. He is thankful that each of them had to claw their way to their places at the top.  
  
When Skull is so _stuck_ in a flashback, these facts have been the only things to keep them alive in a case or two.  
  
He is also grateful that their Flames are slowly becoming familiar again, and that he is getting better at recognizing them even in the grips of his memories.  
  
It probably helps that they have been obsessively giving him things laced with their Flames in attempts to help him. Food, drinks, blankets, pillows….  
  
Sun Flames for healing and warmth, Rain for relaxation and cooling, Mist Flame blankets and pillows for Nightmare Prevention. Sky Flames in very small doses for calm, and Lightning and Storm Flames in all of his food to help his immune system. Lighting to boost it and prevent problems with sickness, while Storm Flames act as a cure all, plowing over any sickness that may have made its way into his body anyway.  
  
It’s...nice. Nothing new, since this was a regular thing once the End came about, helping to keep everyone in full health.  
  
No, it’s nice to see the Arcobaleno do this because they _want too_ , when the world is not ending, and all they want to do is __help him.  
  
He is no Lackey they have already labeled and boxed up, set in their knowledge of him and his ways. He is simply another one like them, unique and just as deserving of his titles as they are.  
  
And not a single one of them will ever ask him to fetch their drinks, reach out with the intention to kick him, to punch him, to throw something at him. There won’t be any calls from any of them, asking him to do dangerous and demeaning errands, missions or the like.  
  
He won’t be ignored, unless it is necessary to include him. He won’t be pushed off to the side and ignored because they have seen the truth of him and their bonds as Elements to the same Sky are settling in and they’re all terribly possessive.  
  
And Skull finds...he doesn’t mind at all.


	9. Chapter 9

Skull does forget about his reaction to Storm Flame infused food and drinks when it is first introduced to his body.  
  
He had already been through it once, back in the Before.  
  
He forgot that in this time, in the Now, this body of his has not been purged ( _of everything they did to him-_ ).  
  
So the first time he is handed Fon’s Storm Infused tea, he drinks it without a second thought. It takes him five minutes to remember.  
  
Five minutes before his body starts to sweat, his stomach cramps so hard he feels like his intestines are going to bust out of his skin ( _and he would know exactly what that felt like-_ ). Heat infuses his body until it feel heavy, as if someone had decreed gravity increase until it _hurts_ to move.  
  
His ears are ringing and his breath comes in short, painful gasps and bile creeps up his throat. He lurches, shoving the pain away to that little box in the corners of his mind and stumbles to the sink, the toilet, _anywhere_ -  
  
He doesn’t quite make it and wretches up thick, blackness as he chokes on burning acid and he can _taste_ exactly what his system is purging.  
  
An arm wraps itself about his shoulders and pulls his body away, shoving a bucket into his hands.  
  
Skull feels a curl of shame because hasn’t he suffered enough? Why does he have to show them exactly how messed up he is? Does the universe delight in hurting him? ( _He had already done this once before, why does he have to do it_ ** _again_** _-_ )  
  
He shudders and gags, shivering at the cold sweat running down the back of his neck and trembles as his insides contract over and _over_.  
  
He heaves and can’t even muster up the energy to flinch at the smell. His thoughts scatter as memories war for dominance in his head and he ignores them all and _forces_ his mind to bend to his wishes as his body is not.  
  
 _Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter.  
  
_ What harms the flesh cannot touch the spirit. Remove the infection to heal the wound.  
  
Pain is nothing new. Skull is intimately familiar with every method designed to cause shame, humiliation and pain and this is _healing.  
  
_ It’s Fon’s Storm Flames and he intended to help and this is helping because Skull didn’t know that he’s carried this filth in his body for _decades_. Did not remember in the _Now_ , that it still sat in his body.  
  
It is out again, he’ll never have to carry it around, it’ll be _gone_ when all is said and done.  
  
He will live, and it will be a _painless_ time again.   
  
He had forgotten what it felt like to be _healthy_. Once, in the Before, before even The End, he had had this health granted to him. But then The End came, and with it came pain. Pain of dwindling supplies. Of hunger and wounds. Of passing his food to others any time he could get away with it, because he had already done this once before in a Camp long gone, and his Flames would not let him die anyway. Even as he suffered, he would heal, but they would not. His Own had _needed_ and he had _given_ what he could.  
  
It was this intimate familiar pain near the end of his Past Life, before he came back to the Now, that made it so he did not realize what pain his body suffered now.  
  
He had forgotten that this body still carried with in all the poisons, the concoctions, that the Nazi Scientists had pumped into his body in attempts to kill him. To test his reactions. He had forgotten that the pain of Now, was not the constant aches of the End Times, but of a past hurt long healed in a Once Future.  
  
He had forgotten that this body fought these poisons and the sicknesses of his Past still.  
  
And Fon’s Storm, the strongest of the world, was now in his system with the pure _Intent_ to destroy anything that ailed him.  
  
He had not expected to find the many, many things that were left behind inside his body from his time in That Room. Poisons that his Cloud Flames both healed and multiplied in its attempts to help his body, over and over again in an endless cycle of agony. His Flames were the strongest in the world because he used them _every moment of every day_ to fight and die and heal constantly.  
  
Fon did not know what his Flames would fight, or that in purging these foreign things from Skull’s body, it would cause him pain.  
  
Skull breathes, even as he chokes on the black tar that bubbles from his lips.  
  
 _He has done this before. It passed then as it will now.  
  
_ _His is Untouchable. There is no pain in his body. There is only signals, and his Will to stop them.  
  
_ _The agony is only a moment in his life. He is not in the moment, but the next. Thus, it rolls over him, through him. It does not sink past his Will. It does not touch him, not in this instant, nor in the next.  
  
_ _He is Serenity.  
  
_ _He is the Eye in this Storm. He is sheltered from the howling winds of this rage.  
  
_ ** _Nothing may affect him without his permission.  
  
_** _He is_ ** _healing_** _even as his very being dies, multiplies and is reborn anew. He is a Phoenix and this his Burning Day.  
  
_ _When it ends, he will be_ whole again.  
  
A ragged, agonized breath, gasped between the deep bone-shaking coughs racking his frame. Despite this, his eyes remain clear, although they’re focused on a single point in front of him.  
  
This is pain is like nothing from his past. This is a good pain. A **_healing_** pain. His every breath brings familiar Storm Flames licking up his throat without pain, as it forces all the things that do not belong in his body _out_. It anchors him to the present, helping to keep his mind from the darkness of his past.  
  
He knows this pain, has gone through it once before, in a time that never was and never will be.  
  
This is a _good_ beginning, despite the road to the end. When it is over, he will no longer carry that agony like stones tied around his neck.  
  
He will be __healed of his pain, his lifelong, constant and unwanted companion.  
  


* * *

  
While Skull is aware of exactly what is happening to him and has moved to deal with the pain ravaging his body accordingly, the others are not so fortunate.  
  
Fon is enjoying a cup of tea, watching as Skull eats and drinks what is set before him. He discreetly smiles as he sees one of Reborn’s cookies, packed with berries, oatmeal and chocolate, not to mention Sun flames. The cookies are washed down with the tea Fon has especially prepared, with a dose of his own flames.  
  
It’s five minutes.  
  
Five minutes before it goes wrong.  
  
Skull freezes. His muscles lock up and by the time it takes Fon to place his tea cup down and stand up, his breathing becomes harsh and sweat beads across his forehead. The Storm barely reaches out to do _something_ , when the Cloud lurches up from his chair, pain contorting his face and staggers in an attempt to-  
  
Fon doesn’t know, but his path to Skull is obstructed but the dining room table so with a twist of Will, the table disintegrates into ashes and his way is clear. He’s reaching forward just as Skull hunches over and a black sludge spills from his mouth.  
  
His brain falters in horror even as muscle memory has his arms tugging Skull back, and Viper materializes out of thin air, shoving a bucket into his hands the instant it solidifies into existence. With the hood covering their face, Fon can’t really get a read of their emotions, of that looks like concern in the corners of their mouth. Even though his hands are holding Skull steady as he retches, the Cloud’s body is shaking and jerking against his grip.  
  
Fon has _never_ seen anything like this. He pushes the panic down and the whispers of _you did this to him, all you do is_ ** _destroy.  
  
_** _Tar_. It’s thick and black, like sludge, and Fon _knows_ it’s poison as it is _rancid_ whatever _exactly_ is pouring from Skull’s mouth with every choking, gasping hack. Fon fears the man will slip into unconsciousness from a lack of oxygen with the rate he is coughing _whatever that is_ up.  
  
Reborn comes flying out of _nowhere_ , his face set in a terrifying scowl and his hands wreathed in Sun Flames. It takes half a second before his expression shifts into something _murderous_ before he pulls back and focuses on easing Skull’s pain. Fingers threaded through his hair, a damp rag wiping at his face and soft murmurs of comfort in several languages.  
  
Fon’s voice is sharp as he levels a sharp question towards the Sun, his gaze rising up to stare into dark eyes.  
  
“ _Reborn?”  
  
_ He is every inch the Storm waiting for a target to aim his Rage and he knows the hitman will see that and respond, no matter how terrible the truth.  
  
Reborn’s eyes lift, black pits of seething _abyss_ , ringed in golden hellfire.  
  
“The flames have triggered his body into _purging_ ,” he grits out tightly, loudly enough to be heard over the sounds Skull is making, “I can’t stop this. Your Flames are doing what you intended for them. It’s _helping him_. Someone **_did this_** to him and whatever they forced into his body apparently remained there until an outside influence resulted in their rejection.”  
  
He pulls in a breath, and it sounds like the roar of the ocean to Fon’s suddenly hyperaware senses.  
  
 _“What?”  
  
_ His voice is a whisper, the beginning breeze of a torrential twister as a cloud of _rage_ shines on his face, breaking away from his calm control.  
  
Reborn gestures to the bucket with one hand, even as the other uses the cloth to gently wipe at the Cloud’s face, grimacing at the low whine of pain Skull makes before his body convulses.  
  
“That blackness he’s coughing up? It’s poisons and drugs, concoctions the likes of which I have never seen before. They have been killing him, even as his Flames fought to heal him. As he is a Cloud, all his Flames succeeded in doing was propagated the problems even as they tried to fix them. He has to have been in _agony_ for **_decades_** at the very **_least._** ”  
  
There is the scent of burning wood, as Fon’s Flames react to his Rage, leaving a perfect print of the hand he had pressed to the hardwood floor behind. It takes every breathing exercise he has ever learned, paired with every calming mental exercise he knows to keep himself on the floor and to reign his Flames back in.  
  
An aimless Raging Storm would only destroy his surroundings. Skull is in close proximity and is not in the condition to fight. So Fon is going to _calm down._ This is _not_ the end.  
  
No, Fon seethes silently, he will find the _cause_ of this, and he will strike at the _heart of it_ and __rip the roots out.


End file.
